


A Christmas Miracle

by noodlecatposts



Series: ACOTAR AU Week 2019 [3]
Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Fluff, Snowball Fight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-11
Updated: 2019-12-11
Packaged: 2021-02-17 23:01:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21751141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noodlecatposts/pseuds/noodlecatposts
Summary: Of all the people, it’s Elain who starts the snowball fight.Posted in participated with ACOTAR AU Week, Day 3: Christmas/Holidays AU.
Relationships: Azriel & Cassian & Morrigan (ACoTaR), Azriel & Cassian & Rhysand (ACoTaR), Azriel & Morrigan (ACoTaR), Elain Archeron & Feyre Archeron & Nesta Archeron, Elain Archeron & Lucien Vanserra, Feyre Archeron & Rhysand, Feyre Archeron/Rhysand, Inner Circle - Relationship
Series: ACOTAR AU Week 2019 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1568818
Kudos: 34
Collections: ACOTAR AU Week, ACOTAR AU Week Day 3





	A Christmas Miracle

Of all the people, it’s Elain who starts the snowball fight.

"Did you enjoy yourself, Feyre Darling?" Rhys asks, one arm wrapped tightly around her shoulders, keeping her warm and close.

"Yes," Feyre mumbles snuggling in close to his warmth, happy. "It was beautiful."

This family, this strange gaggle of misfits brought together by the budding romance of Feyre and Rhys, were on their way home when it all happened. They’d taken a shortcut through the park back to Rhys’s proverbial castle in the sky of an apartment, taking in the dreamy snow-filled landscape.

Everyone was on their way back from watching the Christmas tree lighting downtown, in the blustering, touristy part of the city that the Velaris natives usually liked to avoid. But Feyre admitted to wanting to see the spectacle in action, that she hadn’t done so since before she could actively remember.

Elain was always down for Christmas related outings, and Nesta, though she tried to pretend otherwise, couldn’t deny the middle Archeron sister anything. Rhys would follow Feyre to the ends of the Earth, and Lucien was a sucker for torture, long having mooned over Elain.

Cassian, Morrigan, and Azriel were just always down for something with the potential for alcohol and trouble.

Then the snow hit the back of Cassian’s head in such a manner that no act of God or nature could have caused it. A giggle gave her away, and chaos threatened.

“Oh, ho ho,” Cassian grinned in Elain’s direction, snow dripping down his face.

“Easy there, Santa Claus,” Azriel remarked, eyes sparkling. Snow always brought out the child him, got him to let down the steel enforced walls he always kept so high.

“You have no idea what you’ve just started,” Feyre laments, but she smiles anyway, thrilled. She and Rhys share a look, partners in crime until the very end.

The boys all share a feral grin, except for Lucien, who eyes the strange group he’s found himself a part of with caution and no small amount of worry. If it weren’t for Elain, he’d probably be at home right now, sitting by the fire and drinking some tea. Alone but safe from snow projectiles.

Absolute pandemonium breaks loose, sudden, and with little warning. Elain squeals as Cassian chases her down, laughing all the way. Lucien watches unsure if he should help her or not. But Feyre chucks a snowball at his head, and he forgets all about defending his crush. Rhys protects his girlfriend’s back dutifully, guarding her against the redhead, and the woman in question aims her sights on Mor, who cackles and deceives her best friend, using Azriel as a human shield.

“Morrigan!” Azriel scolds, betrayal bringing out her real name. Mor shrugs and hits him with a snowball of her own. No alliance is safe.

From a distance, Nesta watches the group in horror, but maybe the cold has made her silly, or the warm cocoa has made her soft, melted that ice exterior just a little. She marches through the war ground, protected solely by her murderous glare—who would ever dare to peg Nesta with snow? And to everyone’s surprise, Nesta grabs a handful of snow from the ground, doesn’t bother to shape it into something, and upon reaching her target, drops it all straight down the back of Cassian’s shirt.

The man howls in surprise; the cold snow immediately melts against the heat of him, soaking him through. But the cry dies in his throat when he identifies the culprit, a wry smile taking its place. “Careful there, Sweetheart. You might pick a fight you can’t win.”

Nesta glares, challenging him to do something about it. The tension between them could shake all the snow from the trees.

“Ha!” Someone yells; snow hits Nesta square in the jaw. The group takes a collective breath. Waits.

Elain giggles, the only one brave enough to attack her oldest sister—or to laugh about it. Maybe that cocoa was spiked. Maybe Elain had a little too much.

Cassian caves next, his deep booming laughter echoing in the park. The rest join, never able to resist Cassian’s joy. Rhys chuckles, and Feyre throws her head back in delight. Mor starts to cackle again, Azriel watching fondly. Elain can’t stop giggling, drunk on cocoa and snow and love for the people around her. Lucien looks lost.

And Nesta smiles. A Christmas miracle.

***

Amren is waiting for them, lounging across a giant couch and managing to take up all the space despite her being less than five feet tall. She eyes their appearances critically but makes no comment otherwise. Instead, she returns to sipping her wine, stolen from Rhys’s stash, and reading a book, borrowed from Feyre's.

The leader of the rebellion makes everyone hot cocoa or tea or coffee or whatever they wanted, feeling guilty now that everyone is cold and wet and tired. When Elain begins to apologize, her friends, her family, simply wave her off with fonds smiles; they thank her for the fun and the warm drinks.

Elain would still hit them all with snow again, though, start another war.


End file.
